Breaking Silence (33 page)

Salome struggles for composure. “I just want this to be over so I can go home and see my brothers and all of us can get back to normal.”

I wonder what normal is for her. Killing her parents? Manipulating a lover? Threatening children? Eliminating anyone who gets in the way of her goal? The thoughts make me so angry, my hands begin to shake. “I saw Ike and Samuel earlier this morning,” I tell her. “They seem to be doing okay. They asked about you. I thought you’d want to know.”

She sends me a grateful smile. “Mose was really mean to them. I’m so sorry for that. Ike and Samuel loved him so much. They looked up to him.” Two huge tears break free of her lashes and run down her cheeks. Using both hands, she quickly wipes them away, but not before Thornsberry notices and sends me a frown.

Salome continues. “Samuel and little Ike are so confused right now. I just want to hug them both and tell them everything’s going to be okay.”

“I bet you do.” Remembering how terrified the boys were of her, I suspect the only reason she wants to see them is so she can threaten them and tell them not to open their mouths.

“They’ve been through a lot,” I say.

“I still can’t believe all of this happened,” she whispers. “
Mamm
and
Datt.
Uncle Abel. And now Mose. I think my heart is broken.”

Next to her, Adam Slabaugh leans toward her and pats her shoulder awkwardly. “It’s going to be all right.”

At the window, Thornsberry blabs on about some other client’s pretrial-hearing date. I use that moment to catch Tomasetti’s eye. Not hard to do, since he’s been staring at me since I entered the room. He returns my gaze, his eyes warning me to behave.

I turn my attention back to Salome. “Did you know Mose’s parents were killed in a manure pit accident ten years ago?”

She blinks at me. The look of surprise that crosses her face seems so genuine that, not for the first time, I find myself believing its sincerity. “I didn’t know.”

“That’s odd. He didn’t tell you about it?”

Her eyes flick nervously to her uncle, then to Tomasetti, and back to me. “He told me they were killed in a buggy accident.”

Leaning forward, I put my elbows on the tabletop and lace my fingers. “You know what, honey? I think you
did
know. I think Mose told you all about it. And I think that’s how you conceived the idea to murder your parents.”

“What?” She chokes out a sound of pure shock. “That’s … crazy. I would never do that.”

Next to her, Adam Slabaugh stiffens. “What are you saying, Chief Burkholder? What is this? What are you doing?”

I give him a hard look. “Did you know Solly called Abel and asked him to drive down to pick up Mose and take him back to Indiana?”

He looks baffled and doesn’t respond.

I turn my attention back to Salome. “You knew, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Your parents found out you and Mose were having sex, didn’t they?”

“No!”

Thornsberry crosses to me, slaps his hands down on the tabletop in front of me in a dramatic gesture designed to intimidate. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Chief Burkholder?”

I ignore him, never taking my eyes off Salome. “When they threatened to send Mose away, you decided to kill your father. Mose had told you about the manure pit accident and you manipulated him into carrying out the plan, didn’t you?”

“No!” she cries.

“Your uncle was expendable, too, wasn’t he? When he fell into the pit, it was no big deal, was it?”

“Stop it!”

“Only the plan went wrong, didn’t it? Your mother fell in when she was trying to help. You hadn’t counted on that.”

“Chief Burkholder!” Thornsberry shouts. “That’s enough!”

Shock waves reverberate through the room. Across from me, Adam Slabaugh shifts uncomfortably in his chair. “Why are you saying these things?” he cries.

“Because they’re true.” I stare hard at Salome. “Aren’t they?”

“Kate.” Tomasetti practically growls my name. “This is not an appropriate time to discuss this.” But he doesn’t sound very convincing, and he makes no move to stop me.

“Maybe we should wait until Ike and Samuel turn up dead,” I snap. “Would that make this more appropriate?”

Salome opens her mouth. This time, the shock I see is real. She can’t believe I’m talking to her like this, can’t believe her act isn’t working on me. She can’t believe no one in the room is coming to her rescue, protecting her from the bad bitch cop.

“You controlled Mose with sex. You manipulated and abused your little brothers by threatening them with violence,” I tell her. “You told them if they didn’t do exactly as you said, they’d be sent to jail.”

“I did not! I’m the one who saved their lives! I was afraid Mose would try to hurt them, so I threw the ball into the pit for them!”

“Is that why Mose’s prints were on that ball, not yours?” I snap.

She makes a choking sound, her mouth and eyes wide. “You’re lying!”

Adam Slabaugh rises abruptly. “Stop this! Right now!”

“Chief Burkholder, you are out of control.” Jabbing a finger at me, Thornsberry snarls the words to Tomasetti. “Get her out of here!”

Tomasetti doesn’t move, doesn’t even acknowledge him.

I barely spare them a glance. I can’t take my eyes off of Salome. I’m waiting for that initial chink in her armor. I want to see the innocent facade crumple and watch the monster emerge. I know better than anyone: Not all monsters are ugly beasts with horns.

“Your brothers told me everything, Salome.
Everything.
The beatings. The secrets. The sex. The fights. And then they told me about the murders.”

“They’re lying.” She says the words quietly, but her composure is beginning to slip.

“That’s how Solly got the wound on his head, isn’t it? You hit him with the shovel.”

“Stop it.” Salome manages to look crushed. “None of that is true.”

“Your
datt
didn’t rape you, did he?”

“He came to my room. I was afraid to tell. It went on for months! Years!”

Across from her, Adam Slabaugh covers his face with his hands. “Solly would not,” he says in a broken voice.

“He did!” Salome screams. “I told Mose about it, and he went crazy.” She looks wildly around the room, seeking an ally, any ally. For the first time, Adam Slabaugh doesn’t look prepared to jump in to defend her.

“Miss Slabaugh.” Thornsberry puts his hands beneath her arms, pulls her to her feet. “You don’t have to answer any of her questions. In fact, don’t say another word.” He jabs a finger at me. “What the hell’s your problem? I’ll have your goddamn job for this.”

I hold Salome’s gaze, pushing her hard. “Samuel and Ike overheard you and Mose talking about the murders.
They told me everything.
It’s over.”

“No!” She raises her hands as if to fend me off. “You’re lying. They didn’t hear anything.” Allowing her attorney to pull her away from me, she looks wildly around the room. “She’s lying. I’m a juvenile. She can’t treat me like this.”

I don’t relent. “You made one mistake, though, didn’t you?”

“Leave me alone!” The facade is breaking away, the rabid creature beneath advancing.

“You didn’t expect your
mamm
to fall into that pit, did you?”

“Shut up!”

“That’s when your plan starting falling apart. You underestimated the love a child has for his mother. You underestimated Ike and Samuel and the loyalty they felt toward their
mamm
and
datt.
Those boys saw through your phony love and empty promises. And they turned on you.”

“Mose did it! He did all of it! Not me!”

“You told him you were being raped every night.
Every night.
That drove him crazy, didn’t it? You manipulated him. Used him.”

“I didn’t. Mose did it. He killed them.”

“When you could no longer control your little brothers, you pushed them into the manure pit, too, didn’t you? You promised them you’d come back. You had no intention of saving them, did you? You were going to let them die.”

“No!”

“It was Mose who tossed the ball into the pit. He knew you were going to try to kill them and he couldn’t handle it.”

“He couldn’t handle anything! He was stupid and weak—”

“Stop this right now!” Thornsberry shouts at Tomasetti. “She’s badgering this juvenile!” He turns his attention back to Salome, trying to drag her from the room. “Miss Slabaugh, let’s go.”

Salome shakes him off. “I would have pulled my brothers out of that pit if you hadn’t shown up! You bitch, this is your fault!
Yours!
”

“Earlier, you said you didn’t even know they were in the pit,” I say. “Which is it?”

The attorney grabs her arm. “Let’s go.”

The girl spins and strikes him on the shoulder with her fist. “Get off me!” Her eyes never leave mine. “Mose panicked when he saw you! He dragged me to the shed and forced me into the car. He might have killed me, too!”

“He’s not here to defend himself, is he?” I say.

“Mose did all of it.
All of it!
I’m innocent.”

“You never loved him. He was a means to an end.”

“I did. I loved him. I would have married him!”

But I see the lie and push harder. “Did you think you and Mose were going to just ride into the sunset? After murdering three people?”

“We were going to live here … and take care of our brothers—”

“Your brothers hate you, Salome.”

“No, they don’t!” she screams.

“In fact, they chose me over you.
Me.
A stranger. And now they’re going to testify against you. You’re going to spend the rest of your life in prison—”

“You fucking
bitch
!
I wish I’d killed you, too!
”

The next thing I know, she’s across the table, coming at me with claws and teeth. An instant too late, I push back, but she’s already got me. Her nails sear down my face. Her left hand fists in my hair. As if in slow motion, I see Tomasetti rounding the table, rushing at us. Adam Slabaugh makes a wild grab for his niece as she goes over the tabletop. Thornsberry reels back, his mouth opening and closing like that of a beached catfish.

And then I’m falling backward in my chair, with Salome on top of me, like a cougar intent on mauling its prey.

CHAPTER 21

My chair goes over backward and I slam into the floor so hard, my head bounces off the tile. Stars fly before my eyes. I try to kick away the chair and get my legs under me, but my feet are tangled in the rungs. Before I can move, Salome is on top of me, hair flying, nails slashing at my face.

“You
bitch
!” She lands a blow to my left cheekbone, sending another scatter of stars to my eyes. “You ruined everything!”

When I look into her eyes, I see a total disconnect from reality. Animalistic screeches tear from her throat. “Why couldn’t you just go away! I wish you were dead!
Dead!
”

Vaguely, I’m aware of movement all around me—chairs scudding across the floor, the shuffle of feet. In my peripheral vision, I catch sight of Tomasetti kicking aside the chair. “Get off her!”

I hear the attorney’s ineffective “Hey!”

Salome’s fingernails rake across my left temple, dangerously close to my eye. “I hate you!
I fucking hate you!
”

I raise my hands to shove her away, but she’s too close. I can’t get any leverage. My training kicks in. I bring my elbow up hard, striking her beneath the chin. I hear her teeth click together. Her head snaps back. Stiff-armed, I jam the heel of my hand against her chest as hard as I can. A strangled scream tears from her throat as she reels back. I hear her head strike the table. Twisting, I wriggle out from beneath her, roll, bring up my feet to mule-kick her away.

Before I can, Tomasetti yanks her back. She twists and goes after him like a wild animal. He curses. Her attorney’s shouting in a tinny, alarmed voice. All of it is punctuated by Salome’s strangled screams. “She’s lying! I hate her! She killed Mose!” Her eyes are wild when they find mine. “
Murderer!
”

As abruptly as the ruckus began, the room goes silent and still. I use the fallen chair to get to my feet. I’m aware of the blood roaring in my ears, the drumbeat thud of my heart, the burn of a cut on my face. A few feet away, Tomasetti has Salome bent over, face against the table, while he cuffs her hands behind her back. A visibly shaken Adam Slabaugh stands to my right, shaking, breathing as if he just ran the Boston Marathon.

Tomasetti pulls Salome back from the table by the scruff of her neck and looks at me. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I say automatically.

“You’re bleeding.” Slabaugh pulls a couple of tissues from the box on the table and hands them to me.

“Thanks.” I blot at the burning sensation at my left temple, and the tissue comes away red.

“She’s obviously going to need psychiatric evaluation.”

All heads turn toward Colin Thornsberry, Salome’s attorney. He looks like he just survived a tornado—barely—and I wonder if this is his first brush with a violent offender. He’s looking at Salome as if he doesn’t want to get too close.

The door swings open and I see Glock standing there at the ready. His eyes sweep the room, lingering on me a moment and then going to Salome and Tomasetti. “Everything okay in here?” he asks.

“It is now,” I say, and start toward the door.

*   *   *

There’s a universal truth in law enforcement. It’s one I’ve struggled with for years and probably will for more years to come. Some cases turn out badly no matter how good the police work. Even though you make the arrest, get the bad guy off the street, and make the world a safer place, there is no justice done. The end result can be as sad and troubling as the crime itself.

In the case of the Slabaugh family, two Amish parents are still dead, along with an uncle who was trying to help. Two little boys will grow up without their mother and father and siblings. A seventeen-year-old boy is dead. And a fifteen-year-old Amish girl is probably going to prison, where an innocent baby will be born into a system that is far from perfect.